


A Long Summer

by Melethril



Series: Harry Potter and the Heart of Sword [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Gen, Japanese Ministry of Magic, More Magic!, Wizard!Hiko Seijuurou, second installment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 04:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18275744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melethril/pseuds/Melethril
Summary: The Japanese Ministry of Magic kept information from Hiko.He's not happy and there will be consequences.





	A Long Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my friends!
> 
> This is my second installment of the Harry Potter and the Heart of Sword Series. Thanks for joining me this far.

Hiko Seijuro hardly ever misjudged anything. However, sparring with his pupil after the memories of the Bakumatsu returned on his sixteenth birthday, proved to be more challenging than anticipated. He had not known that the Battousai was this fast.

The thirteenth master of _Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu_ always thought his pupil was made for speed not strength (even though Kenshin was considerably stronger than a normal boy of such meagre built). He still defeated him, of course, but barely so. The memories had given his pupil something he had apparently missed in this second life.

If it did not contradict Hiko’s very being, he would asked Kenshin what returned on top of a _hitokiri_ ’s hair-trigger reflexes. However, he knew enough not to train with his pupil once the sun set. The Battousai used to hunt in the night. There was no need to stir up too much trouble.

Given that Kenshin remembered the ultimate technique, he was technically considered the fourteenth master of _Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu_ , therefore Hiko was no longer Kenshin’s _shishou_. It was just as obvious that the boy needed him to be just that for the time being.

Thus, even though they practised every day with their swords, Hiko decided on actually _teaching_ the boy something. That left magic. Not just the boy knowing _of_ magic, but the boy actually _studying_ magic. As far as he was able to.

Given Kenshin had not even _known_ of magic in his old life, the ever-curious _baka_ was all ears.

“... That means you really do vanish occasionally.”

Trust his pupil to point out the obvious.

“Of course, but make no mistake, short-distance apparation takes almost as much time as running said distance using _Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu_. However, some opponents hesitate.”

“Because the _Ki_ lingers when you run but vanishes the second you disapparate,” the boy realised, violet eyes wide. Hiko refused to confess that his extraordinarily _Ki_ -sensitive pupil was one of the few with whom he needed to resort to such a tactic.

“Yes, however, the International Confederation of Wizards has decided that witches and wizards are not allowed to apparate until coming of age under your respective government. Even if you should have enough magic to do that, I can’t teach you yet. Don’t say it!” he barked. He knew exactly what protest was on the boy’s lips.

First, he was not a wizard. Second, by the old laws, the boy was already of age.

“So, there is magic falling under international regulations,” the redhead said thoughtfully. “There have to be differences, though, as it is with sword styles. Many schools teach the basic _kata_ , but no school is exactly the same. Are there any schools teaching magic in Japan?”

It bothered Hiko, but he enjoyed seeing the young man so annoyingly animated. It definitely beat his initial reaction.

 _“Magic... That explains many things. Wizards roamed the Kyoto nights, didn’t they? I saw fellow_ ishin shishi _die after being struck by green light. I cut off the attacker’s head.”_

They had.

Both, non-magical and magical people participated in the revolution; on both sides.

“Yes, there are,” he answered. “In Japan, underage wizards and witches are home-schooled until the age of sixteen. That is when they are being recruited by different schools all over the country, occasionally by international schools, though relations are somewhat strained. In order to be admitted to one of those schools, you need to pass certain tests, commonly known as Ordinary Wizarding Level.”

“Sixteen?” Kenshin asked, deceptively calm and collected. Hiko knew his pupil well enough to know that he was disappointed. “This one thought so. But what about those from families without any magic? Or magical children adopted by non-magical humans?”

Only his _baka deshi_ would point out an honest weakness in the Japanese recruiting system after knowing about its existence for less than one minute.

“Very recently, the government has established a system locating any child with magical talent born in Japan.”

While Great Britain, France and Russia used this practice for more than a thousand years, the Japanese ministry had refused to adopt the system until 1975, very much to Hiko’s frustration. He was by no means a regular visitor in the high ranks of Wizarding Society (and definitely never a welcome one), but he often tried to eliminate antiquated beliefs regarding purity of blood. He was by no means the only one, but there were some particularly dim-witted individuals among the high ranks.

As usual.

Unlike Europe however, there was by far less prejudice against magical beings other than wizards and witches in Japan. Any magical being could adopt and teach anyone with magical talent, no matter where the magic came from. He knew Great Britain in particular had long-lasting conflicts between goblin and wizarding society. Nevertheless, the old system presupposed that said talent was around other magical beings ready to teach him, and that was not a given for every child with magical talent.

As if on cue, the wards at the edge of the mountain rippled, announcing the presence of a wizard who had just apparated outside the walls. Kenshin’s eyes narrowed and he stood up, hand on the hilt of his sword.

The boy probably did not even know what he just felt, but sneaking up on the sixteen-year-old was almost impossible since his memories returned.

“Wait here, _deshi_ ,” Hiko snapped shortly and moved in the direction of where the intruder was standing.

It was by no means a coincidence. The sword master had been waiting for a letter from the ministry for the past week. It was early June after all, the month of _sentaku_ when the Adepts were identified and invited to the schools for taking their OWL exams.

Caution was still important. Lightly, he moved through the woods without making a sound. It did not take him long to reach the borders of his home. The wizard was unknown to him, but he wore the clothing of a mere runner. Furthermore, there was no other soul nearby; he made sure of that before entering the clearing.

“What message do you have for me?” he asked dismissively.

“Seijuro Hiko,” the runner spoke formally, bowing deeply. “I bring a message from our esteemed Ministry. Your presence is greatly desired, Master Seijuro.” As he spoke the usual pleasantries, he offered a letter, which Hiko took and read dispassionately.

 _“‘Hiko Seijuro, Supreme Warlock of Japanese Wizarding Society, thirteenth master of_ Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu... _’_

_‘blah blah blah’_

_‘we kindly ask for your presence...’_

_‘blah blah blah...’”_

After reading, he addressed the runner coldly, “Tell them I’ll be there by afternoon. My student will accompany me.”

He had never taken the boy anywhere near the vultures that made up the higher councils, and he should probably wait for another year before dragging him along, but leaving his pupil to his own devices for several days was something he judged to be even less wise.

He did not want to return to an empty house.

Not again.

“Of course, Master Seijuro. Everything will be prepared for your arrival.”

Not even bothering to dismiss the runner, the warlock turned and left.

* * *

Kenshin did not look particularly thrilled at the thought of leaving the mountain. He packed without protest, however. He protested a lot as far as preparing lunch was concerned, so Hiko dismissed his pupils’ reservations.

The boy handled the side-by-side apparation not as badly as some, but he did have to get his breathing under control and he said ‘ _oro’_ more than just once before resorting to cursing under his breath, indicating that the gentle young man let his darker nature come forth to deal with this unaccustomed way of travelling.

To Kenshin’s relief, the Ministry of Magic resided in Tokio, not Kyoto. In fact, the ministry had resided there for more than six hundred years. The relief did not last all too long, because the streets were extremely crowded and were by no means comparable to the city he had once visited as rurouni. Hiko noticed the boy tense up more and more until he finally barked at him to do whatever he wanted as long as he stopped acting like a nervous hen. The boy chuckled dryly and _vanished_. It took a locator spell and all of Hiko’s extraordinary skills to get a fair idea where the red-haired menace might be. It seemed not only nights belonged to the _hitokiri_. Crowds may be dangerous because of potential witnesses, but the slender swordsman had obviously found a way to use crowds as a disguise. While the sword master was absolutely sure not even Battousai was capable of sneaking up to or attack him in broad daylight, it was mildly disconcerting to know that he was unable to actually keep track of him.

Once he left the larger crowds and entered the less obvious alleys to reach his destination, Kenshin was easier to locate and he ultimately reappeared by his side.

“Is this it?” the boy asked when he stopped in front of an old, rather unremarkable building. Not bothering a reply, he grabbed his pupil’s sleeve while extracting his wand with his free hand tapping a specific pattern on the wall. The hidden door opened as wide as his pupil’s jaw.

“ _Oro.”_

* * *

Kenshin Himura could honestly claim to have seen a lot; good and bad. Nevertheless, this was the most wondrous place he had ever entered in this life or the life before.

From the outside, the building looked run-down, neither modern nor particularly ancient and rather small. Once that hidden door appeared, though, his senses ran havoc. They entered and Kenshin stood inside of a building grander even than the pompous palaces he had invaded while fighting for the _ishin shishi_.

Everything was upside down. The laws of physics he so often defied with his style were simply eradicated by magic. They first entered a busy entrance hall. The ceiling was high enough for Kenshin to perform _Ryutsuisen_ and still not overcoming half the distance between the ground and top. The entire place almost buzzed with power and busy people, but it was not _loud_. Most people wore traditional garments to Kenshin’s relief. Entering modern Kyoto with _Gi_ and _Hakama_ had been rather embarrassing. There was one official entry, but after glimpsing about he had eight escape routes ready if necessary. Several objects were hovering or flying across the room: paper, waste-paper baskets, desks, occasionally there were people at the desk either not realizing or not caring that they were hovering three feet above ground. One of those people was a witch with long, wild, black hair coiling around her neck independently of the desk’s movements. She was writing letters at an impressive speed with her right hand, her middle hand skillfully removed any stains while her left hand quickly prepared envelopes and a fourth and fifth hand quickly shoved written letters into their respective envelopes. Kenshin blinked twice to make sure he had not hallucinated it. Her eyes suddenly met his, but her hands never ceased in their tasks. The swordsman adjusted his stance and prepared his sword in case she decided to attack.

“Jorougumo, _baka deshi_. Spider-woman. She won’t attack, but do not provoke her,” his _shishou_ warned.

Kenshin bowed to her politely and smiled, but she merely looked at him indifferently.

Then, something shifted and she leaned forward.

 _Hunger_.

Not the kind of hunger he had seen in the eyes of women inspecting his _shishou,_ no... She looked hungry as if he was a positively delicious meal. For a moment, he did not know how to react as instincts clashed violently: bewildered irritation on the side of the experienced _hitokiri_ unused to be viewed as prey, and the urge to hide on the side of Kenshin.

As she tilted her head and smiled hungrily, survival instincts kicked in and old behavioural patterns won over.

_Show weakness and die._

Steel-blue eyes looked back at the woman who recoiled as if burned before she carried on with her work.

“Interesting,” his teacher murmured, but he did not elaborate what he meant by that.

“What is interesting?” Kenshin asked calmly once the woman’s attentions were no longer on him.

“As expected, my initial impression has proven to be correct,” Hiko said, not even bothering to say anything more on the subject and Kenshin bristled, but decided to let this conversation rest until they were home.

Once again, someone acknowledged their presence and, without saying anything, both turned towards a tall, thin, elderly man with long silver hair and beard standing on the other side of the room. He was not Japanese, but Kenshin could not say whether he was European or American. His eyes were blue and there was a sparkling light in them, perfectly in accordance with the kind smile aimed in their direction. He was powerful, Kenshin was sure, even though the orange robe with green stripes gave off the vibe of an eccentric individual.

“Dumbledore,” Hiko said as he walked towards the older man with what almost could be interpreted as a smile. Dumbledore was slightly taller than his _shishou_ very much to the redhead’s consternation. Hiko would make fun of him being a sprite for the rest of the day! It was not as if he could help it. “This is an unexpected surprise. Are you here on Hogwarts or Confederation business?”

“It is _sentaku_ , Seijuro- _san_ ,” the wizard replied in flawless Japanese and smiled kindly. “I’m here on Hogwarts business, of course.”

“’Of course’?” the sword master repeated disbelievingly and as brash as ever. “Given Hogwarts has never recruited outside of Great Britain up to now, my question is justified.”

The man called Dumbledore acknowledged said words wordlessly and lowered his face to look at the teenager for the first time. “Good day, Mr. Himura. It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said in English and while his _shishou_ had taught him the language (“ _English a universal language and you will learn this, one way or another,_ baka deshi”), he had to focus on every syllable the other wizard uttered. “My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and an old acquaintance of your _shishou_.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you too, Dumbledore- _sensei_ ,” Kenshin answered haltingly in English and he bowed. He wondered if the man knew about his past, or not. He seemed like one of those people who knew most of what was going on. However, he was sure Hiko did not tell the headmaster that he actually remembered.

 _“Make sure you act like a normal sixteen-year-old, or as normal as can be expected from a small sprite like you growing up in a secluded place. Be polite and be your usual annoying self,”_ the swordmaster had ordered before leaving.

“How many students have you intended on inviting to Hogwarts?” the thirteenth master of _Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu_ continued.

“I’m afraid only one,” the tall man sighed.

“One? You’ve been fighting for this ever since you were appointed headmaster. Why is the ministry so stubborn about this?”

“Matters regarding the acceptance of students outside of Great Britain are the concern of the school governors, I’m afraid. We’ve finally achieved a compromise, but it is bound to certain... boundaries: said student is not allowed to enter NEWT classes; he will be admitted to Hogwarts’ Fifth Year students and will take the OWL exams along with them.”

“They’ll lose an entire year!” his _shishou_ protested. “Like this, all prestige a potential education at Hogwarts offers will be rendered useless.”

“I know,” the tall man responded sadly. “That is why I haven’t found a single family willing to send their child to Hogwarts yet. I must return tonight. The Triwizard Tournament is held at Hogwarts and the third task will take place in three days.”

“I see. Before you leave, come see me. I might have found a volunteer in the meantime,” Hiko said, which earned him a radiating smile.

“Thank you, Seijuro- _san_. Please excuse me, your minister expects my arrival in...” he glanced at the watch he extracted from his pocket. “Fifteen minutes ago. Goodbye, Hiko. Mr. Himura, it was a pleasure.”

Just like that the elderly man left without a hurry, but at considerable speed nevertheless.

“Hogwarts is one of the best schools worldwide,” Hiko explained. “It is a shame the conditions are unacceptable, normally the students would stand in line to attend to Hogwarts.”

“Just how powerful is he?” Kenshin asked instead.

“He’s probably the most powerful wizard of recent times,” the sword master answered dryly and opened one of the many doors nearby.

They walked down an empty, long corridor before descending a staircase, which strangely led them to the upper stories of the building. An elderly man approached them. For today’s world he probably looked like an actor for a historic play.

For a moment, Kenshin had trouble remembering what the modern world liked to wear. The man did not carry any _daisho_ , but the way he approached them suggested that he was armed.

It did not take long and Kenshin was introduced to Akira Tsukayama, another Supreme Warlock like Hiko. The man was powerful, but also distinctly nervous around them. The former _hitokiri_ could feel it and he knew his teacher was aware too.

“What do you need me for, Tsukayama?” the tall man asked as carefully as ever. “Has the system located talents we can’t approach?”

Kenshin knew that Hiko occasionally left for a few days in June to pick up undiscovered magical talents and bring them to the ministry. He had done so four and six years ago, he remembered.

“No, we... Please, come.”

The man was not just nervous. He was terrified. Kenshin frowned and tried to catch his _shishou_ ’s eye. However, Hiko did not return the gesture. They entered what looked like a conference room; the kind of chamber Kenshin had visited dozens of times under various circumstances:

As Katsura’s bodyguard. As a rurouni. As a killer.

Deliberately letting go off these memories, the red-haired swordsman inspected the traditional room. _Tatami_ on the floor, enough tea sets for twenty people. There were twelve men and six women – wizards and witches – sitting, apparently awaiting their arrival. This time, Hiko actually looked surprised.

“What is the meaning of this?” he growled.

“Please, Master Seijuro, sit down,” an unknown wizard offered, his voice only slightly trembling. It was clear that something happened and they were now trying to confess their blunder to his irate guardian.

“What happened?” the tall and annoyed sword master hissed. Hiko was not short-tempered, but he was sarcastic and brash and the powers help you if you did something to seriously aggravate him. He hardly ever left a trail of bodies behind him, but trembling messes? Anytime.

“We’d like to discuss this without your... pupil present,” a rather tall, slender wizard with a long, grey, carefully cut beard stated, his dark eyes looking him over as if Kenshin was staining the floor by his mere presence.

“Leave!” his _shishou_ ordered and the sixteen-year-old wanted to protest. However, the order was accompanied by a look that brooked no further objection. “If I catch you eavesdropping, I’ll cut off your ears.”

While Kenshin trusted Hiko not to do that, he got the message loud and clear, even ascended the staircase regardless of his curiosity.

For almost an hour, the redhead waited. When he finally felt his guardian’s approach he asked dryly, “Do you want me to dispose of the bodies?”

The _Ki_ he felt from the older man was positively murderous.

“We’re leaving,” the tall man merely said and did just that. He did not even look back and Kenshin had to run in order to keep up.

Once outside, Hiko grabbed his sleeve and they disapparated.

It was not quite as bad this time, but this way of travelling ran havoc with his _Ki_ -sense and left him wondering how his _shishou_ dealt with it.

“It’s easier when you do it yourself,” was the answer, making him realise he had asked the question out loud. Other than that, the man who had raised him did not speak a single word until dinner (which Kenshin had prepared without protesting. _Much._ ).

“When you came to me the first time, we did not have the spells to identify magical beings. You were not a wizard and I knew nothing about your family, so I did not teach you any magic. Apart from your _Ki_ -sense, there was nothing out of the order. However, eight years ago I decided to make sure and checked the records. You were not listed in the system as an Adept, so I merely decided to teach you about magic as far as it is possible with a child touched by magic, but unable to perform it. I was deceived. Your name _was_ listed. Precisely _your_ name was listed.”

For a moment, Kenshin was confused until it dawned to him, “Kenshin Himura. They knew that the Battousai was reborn.”

“Yes, they did, and they decided to manipulate your training by letting me believe that you aren’t an Adept. _‘He did enough damage with only his sword, what more could he do if he was taught magic?’_ they said. Fools! They don’t know your memories returned and I don’t want them to think otherwise.” Kenshin knew all too well how important that was, so he simply nodded at the unspoken order.

“What difference does it make, _shishou_?” Kenshin asked. He was angry as well, but the years he could have spent studying magic were already gone.

“Nobody tricks me! By their deception, they may have managed to keep you out of their schools, but they won’t succeed in preventing you from becoming a wizard. Coming tomorrow, we will get you a wand from Harada- _san_ and we will train because by the end of this summer, you will go to Hogwarts.”

“ _Oro?”_ Kenshin’s eyes went wide. “But, _shishou_ , Dumbledore- _sensei_ said such a student would enter the fifth year of Hogwarts! It is impossible for me to revise four years of schools in the course of three months!”

Hiko Seijuro only sighed, “I will say this only once _, baka_ , so listen: four years (give or take a few months) and one week. That was all it took you to master _Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu_. You may not master magic in three months, but you will know enough to survive. If it’s not enough by the end of the school year, you will take another. If the Supreme Warlock Council complains…” he smiled dangerously. “Well, they can’t now, can they, because it is the consequence of their own actions. That’s a lesson they need to learn.”

And from personal experience, Kenshin knew all too well how much his _shishou_ enjoyed driving such lessons home.

Every strike of _Hiten Mitsurugi_ -ryu counted and Hiko was a true master: every time he _moved_ , he hit right where it hurt the most.

Kenshin knew he was in for a couple of very strenuous months.

* * *

_“Oro!”_

“ _Baka deshi_! Stop acting like fool, it’s not so difficult! Just turn around and stun the boar. Stop running!”

“ _ORO!”_

* * *

“I said it’s ‘ _Wingardium leviosa’_ and not whatever it is you said. Now this is a good opportunity to study _Finite incantatem_ , a European spell capable of cancelling any spell as long as the caster is powerful enough. Stop annoying the buffalo and vanquish him already!”

* * *

“Of course, the fumes of this potion have a similar effect to halothan, which is used for anaesthesia. Try not to inhale too much while stirring the potion. Are you listening to me, _baka deshi?_ I didn’t allow you to go to sleep, so wake up and focus!”

* * *

_Blood. Swords clashing. Death all around._

Kenshin opened his eyes, his sword close to his chest, sitting upright though slightly leaning against the robust, wooden wall.

Not a sound escaped his lips.

* * *

_“... bow to death, Harry...”_

_“Come out, Harry ... come out and play ... it’ll be quick ... it might even be painless ... I wouldn’t know ... I have never died.”_

_“Kill the spare!”_

No! Inhaling sharply, Harry Potter woke from his nightmare.

**Author's Note:**

> Kenshin Himura is strongly inspired by Vathara's version of Kenshin.


End file.
